


Seven Minutes in Heaven

by SoapBoxDerby



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24506593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoapBoxDerby/pseuds/SoapBoxDerby
Summary: A teenage Pam and Harley play seven minutes in heaven.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 63
Kudos: 200





	Seven Minutes in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again friends! This one-shot is from the same universe as my full-length fic Fielder's Choice, but it can be read as a stand-alone one-shot. You don't need to have read that fic to enjoy this little blurb! For those who have read Fielder's Choice, this is just an alternate first-kiss for our girls.
> 
> Happy reading,  
> xx Derby

“Harley,” Pam mumbled under her breath beside the blonde. “Are you sure this is the best idea?”

“Relax, Pammy,” Harley placated, her hand coming to rest on her friend’s thigh. “Jack's a sweetie!"

When Harley had invited Pam over to her house excitedly that evening after softball practice, Pam hadn’t realized the ‘small get-together’ the blonde had described was actually going to be a small rager. Everyone on the Arkham High School softball team was there, plus everyone _they_ knew, and then some. Though Harley had offered no sort of explanation as to why her family wasn’t home, Pam could only assume that Sharon Quinzel was off chaperoning one of her son’s overnight wrestling matches.

They had started with dancing, as three dozen or so horny teenagers crammed up against one another trying to grind to whatever generic pop song was playing through the speakers someone had lugged inside. Pam sat unamused on the couch and watched as boys and girls alike try to woo Harley to no avail. And it had been fine, until someone hauled a keg inside. The inclusion of alcohol inspired a few of the boys to get a little handsy, and that was when Pam had stood up and uncharacteristically proposed a game of spin the bottle.

A handful of them, including Pam, Harley, Zoe Lawton, Diana Prince, and a nasty boy from another school that Pam couldn’t stand named Jack Napier all sat in a circle on Harley’s bedroom floor while the party continued in the living room. After the first few awkward kisses, things had begun heating up, and Pam felt a dread bubbling in her chest as the odds of the bottle landing on herself began to rise.

She should’ve been more worried about Harley’s odds, she realized, as Diana spun the empty bottle and it landed on the blonde.

“So we kiss?” Diana specified, gesturing between herself and Harley. A few of the boys in the circle practically started drooling. Pam’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. Jack clapped his hands together and laughed gleefully.

“We kiss,” Harley giggled, already leaning over the circle on the palms of her hands, ass sticking out as she wagged her eyebrows. Diana smirked, glancing at Pam and quirking a brow.

“Is this okay?”

“ _Why are you asking me,_ ” Pam shot defensively, and Diana just smirked a little more before turning her gaze back to the questionably-eager blonde.

“Okay, Harley, I’m going to kiss you now,” Diana clarified. Harley rolled her eyes.

“You already got my consent, honey.”

And with that, Harley cupped Diana’s face and pulled her in for a searing kiss. Pam could’ve sworn she saw Harley slip the tip of a pink tongue past her teammate’s lips before pulling away with a laugh.

“My turn!” the blonde grinned, lunging to the center of the circle before Pam had time to stammer out whatever lame excuse for getting up and leaving she could muster and spinning the glass bottle on the carpet.

“Wait!” Zoe cried, suddenly slamming her hand down on the bottle and stilling it. The circle groaned until the brunette spoke again.

“What if we raised the stakes a little?”

“Like, raised them how?” Harley asked for the rest of the group.

Zoe smirked.

“What if, instead of kissing, we took body shots?”

And that was how they found themselves five minutes later, with Harley’s bottle pointed at Jack Napier, his grin peeling past his gums in a predatory way.

Trashy bass music rattled the thin walls of the Quinzel home. Pam inched closer to Harley, her palm falling to the blonde’s thigh.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, and Harley just grinned.

“Duh, I want to!”

“Harley, Harley, Harley,” Jack purred, his yellow teeth glistening as he grinned a nasty grin and ran his fingers through an at-home dye job gone wrong. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

Pam’s stomach did a summersault as Jack pulled Harley’s t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, leaving her in just a lacy push-up. Harley blushed and laid back on the carpet to a chorus of whoops and hollers as Jack smirked and straddled her hips with his knees.

“I got the lime!” Zoe shouted as she tossed Harley a slice, and someone handed Jack a salt shaker.

Pam wanted to fucking vomit.

Someone poured a shot of tequila into Harley’s bellybutton and the blonde giggled. Jack stuck his finger in his mouth, wetting it thoroughly before dragging it from Harley’s sternum to her lower abs, then shaking the salt along the wet line he’d traced.

Pam wanted to punch him right in his dumb fucking face.

Harley settled the lime slice between her lips. Jack stooped down, sucking the liquor from her bellybutton. She shuddered a little, though it was obviously forced, as the audience around them cheered. Then, holding the tequila in his mouth, he licked the line of salt up from her body, swallowing the tangy solution in his mouth. Pam noted (followed by the taste of bile in her mouth) that the blonde’s shudder looked considerably more realistic this time. Jack licked his lips nastily, leaning down to take the lime in Harley’s mouth between his teeth. Pam felt her nails dig into the palms of her hands as she suddenly shouted out, to no one’s surprise more than her own:

“Seven minutes in heaven!”

The room stilled, and everyone looked towards her. Zoe, who sat across the circle, offered a smirk and a quirked brow in the redhead’s direction.

“We should, um, play seven minutes in heaven,” she offered, suddenly feeling very foolish. But her impulsivity had had the desired effect — the circle had already forgotten about Jack and Harley, chattering excitedly in agreement at the prospect of getting to dry hump in a musty closet with no strings attached.

Jack looked more than a little peeved as he dismounted and dragged himself back across the circle, offering no hand to Harley nor picking up the shirt that he had torn off of her. The blonde didn’t seem to notice, sitting up without assistance and grabbing the discarded clothing, tugging it back over her head. Pam felt a slight rush of relief.

“Pam, what the hell was that about,” Harley whispered from her place beside the redhead. But before she could open her mouth to answer, Jack was obnoxiously butting in.

“I’ll spin first!”

And with a dramatic flourish, he spun the bottle in the circle, watching it go round and round and round until finally, it settled on—

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Pam hissed, standing up and steadying herself. “I won’t-”

“Oh, Pammy, come on!” Jack whined. “Nobody says we have to do anything, it’s just seven minutes in Harley-girl’s closet. We could just talk!”

Pam bristled. She didn’t like the way he referred to Harley, and she did _not_ like the prospect of being shut up in Harley’s closet with _Jack fucking Napier_. But it was Harley’s party, and Pam would have done quite literally anything to keep the blonde beside her happy. So she sighed and took the knob of the closet in her hand.

“Fine. But if you try anything-”

“I’ll be a saint,” Jack interrupted, mimicking the sign of the cross. Pam rolled her eyes and tossed her head towards the closet. The others giggled as the pair shut themselves up inside the room.

Pam immediately regretted it. It was a tight fit, stuffy and humid. Jack was sniggering beside her, and she could feel the outside of his thigh pressing invasively against hers. She knew the closet was small, but she was pretty fucking certain there was enough room that they didn’t have to be physically touching.

The only plus-side was the warm scent of peaches that smelled so absolutely Harley.

“So,” Jack said, with no attempt to keep his voice down. “You and Harley, eh?”

“What?” Pam hissed. “What are you-”

“Pammy, Pammy, Pammy,” Jack interrupted, and though she couldn’t see his twisted little grin, she could certainly hear it. “Everyone knows that you’re batshit crazy for her.”

Pam felt her cheeks burst into flames as she kicked his ankle as hard as she could in the tiny space. He yelped.

“Ow! Jesus, you fucking-”

“Lower your voice,” Pam interrupted, her own voice throaty and sincere, and for a moment it seemed to scare the smarmy boy beside her into silence. But she could practically hear the mischievous gears in his head cranking and grinding away, and she knew he was about to speak again before the next words had left his lips.

“So, if you’re really not interested in Harley, then you wouldn’t mind if I fuck her in her bed tonight after everyone goes h-”

Pam somehow managed to find his scrawny little neck in the dark, her hands clamping around him as she silenced him with her grasp. His fingers dug at her hands, but her anger made her immune to his jagged nails as they clawed at her skin. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered so softly that someone couldn’t have heard her if they had their ear pressed up against the door.

“I’m going to tell you something about Harley Quinzel,” she spoke levelly, lips almost pressed against his greasy little ear. “If you touch her, talk to her, look at her, if you so much as fucking think about her, I will find you, and I will tear your fucking lungs out through your asshole. Do I make myself perfectly fucking clear?”

He struggled for a moment, but after some much-labored breathing and failed attempts, he finally managed a pinched “yes.” She released him, and suddenly light was flooding into the closet as he threw the door open and ran from the room.

“Crazy fucking bitch!”

The front door slammed shut, and Pam looked towards the circle of teenagers seated on the floor, jaws unhinged. Zoe had her timer stopped.

“You were… in there for forty-seven seconds.”

Pam smirked as she stepped back into the room.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find a boy who could handle seven minutes of me.”

A splash of color warmed Harley’s cheeks as Pam joined her on the floor again, but Zoe just shook her head.

“Well, now it’s your turn to spin,” the brunette insisted. “Since it landed on you last time.”

Pam furrowed her brow.

“I don’t think that’s how it-”

“Here ya go, Pammy!” Harley insisted, stuffing the bottle into Pam’s hands. The redhead quirked a brow in Harley's direction, and the blonde cleared her throat and looked down at the floor. Pam sighed.

If it made Harley happy…

She set the bottle down on the carpet and spun it with a flick of her wrist. Holding her breath, she watched it spin around the circle, feeling her heart thump in her chest faster and faster as the bottle moved slower and slower until finally…

She wasn’t sure if she should have been relieved or fucking terrified.

Harley was looking up from the bottle pointed directly at her, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth. Pam had to look again to make sure she really saw what she was seeing.

“We don’t have to, um…” the redhead tried, but Zoe was snickering into the palm of her hand as she interrupted.

“Seven minutes, Pam!” the brunette insisted. “Try not to run Harley out of her own fucking house, okay?”

Harley was on her feet first, taking Pam’s wrist in her hand as she led them into the closet and shut the door. Pam’s heart was in her throat as Harley settled in beside her. She knew that Jack had been standing closer than he’d needed to, because (to her chagrin) she couldn’t feel Harley pressed against her body.

Creepy little fuck.

“So,” the redhead mumbled under her breath. “Uh… seven minutes. What do you wanna, um, what do you wanna talk about?”

“Oh.” Harley sounded disappointed. “I dunno. We could talk about what you said to Jack Napier to make him run outta my house?”

Pam snorted.

“That certainly isn’t my idea of seven minutes in heaven.”

“So what is?”

Pam stilled, swallowing nervously.

“What do you mean?” she asked, though she had a pretty firm fucking understanding of what Harley had meant by the question.

“What’s your idea of seven minutes in heaven?” Harley specified.

It was quiet for a moment. Pam was nervous she might say too much or somehow manage to offend Harley and was preparing to backtrack, opening her mouth to come up with something — anything — else to talk about.

“I didn’t… I don’t-”

“Six minutes!” Zoe’s voice shouted from the other side of the door. Pam felt relieved at the interruption until she realized Harley was still waiting for an answer.

“We can just sit in here and wait it out,” Pam whispered softly. “Obviously we don’t have to-“

She stopped talking, because suddenly, there was a hand against her hip. Her heart leaped into her chest as she clamped her mouth shut and realized that Harley’s breathing was remarkably ragged.

“Um… Harley?”

Pam’s voice shook a little, and at any other given point she would have actually lit aflame from embarrassment, but Harley’s thumb was rubbing soothing circles into her hipbone and she could feel the blonde pressing closer.

“Pam,” Harley husked, voice suddenly soberingly low. “Can I kiss you?”

Pam’s mouth was full of cotton. At least, that’s how it felt when it opened and closed uselessly as she fought valiantly to find an answer. When it became apparent that none would come, she reached out with both her hands, cupped the back of Harley’s neck, and pulled their lips together.

The first thing Pam noticed after Harley’s breathy gasp was that the blonde tasted like pineapples. Like the little fruity lip smackers you buy at the drugstore, that was what Harley tasted like. The second thing she noted was Harley’s entire-body response, as the shorter girl curled into Pam’s form and wrapped her arms around the pitcher’s neck. After a moment or two, Pam pulled away gingerly, breath ragged and short. If there were any semblance of light in the tiny room, Pam would have seen the deep blush creeping up Harley’s neck and into her cheeks. But as it was, Pam was left to wonder entirely what Harley’s reaction was.

“Was… was that-” the redhead tried.

“I just need a fuckin’ second,” Harley interrupted, panting softly as her hands fisted in red hair. Pam fought back a gentle whimper at the sensation.

“Five minutes!” Zoe called.

“Okay,” Harley said, almost to herself, as she lunged forward and captured Pam’s lips in her own in a much needier, hungrier kiss than before, knocking Pam against the wall of the closet. Pam hummed softly and pulled Harley’s lower lip gently into her mouth, eliciting a steady moan from the blonde.

Harley’s hands were shaking, Pam could feel them when they cupped her cheeks. She was going to pull away, to check in, but Harley’s mouth suddenly opened and the tip of her tongue swept along the edge of Pam’s lower lip and Pam was glad she was being pushed against a wall because _her knees were about to give out—_

“Harley,” she mumbled throatily.

“We can talk later,” Harley insisted, her hands smoothing along Pam’s ribs. “Kiss me.”

Pam did. She kissed the absolute fuck out of Harleen Quinzel, lapping up the taste of pineapple and cherry cola and skittles. Harley was fucking _candy_. She was an absolute drug. When Harley’s tongue pushed past Pam’s lips and into her mouth, the redhead couldn’t help the groan that mingled against Harley’s lips.

“Four minutes!”

Harley grabbed Pam’s thigh and lifted, hooking it around her hip as she pushed further into the taller girl. In this position, Pam could feel much more of the blonde as she pushed closer, the thumping of her heart dipping dangerously low to a steady pulsing between her thighs. With Harley's hips flush against hers, Pam couldn’t help the gentle rock that followed. Harley sighed in appreciation, her hands dropping to the small of Pam’s back, rubbing tight circles. She pulled away, pressing their foreheads together.

“Pam, can I…” she tried, suddenly at a loss for words. “Where can I… can I touch-”

Pam answered by taking the shorter girls hands in her own and sliding them down until they cupped her ass, both girls sucking in steadying breaths at the new contact. They stood still for a moment, Harley’s thumbs stroking softly against the new territory. Zoe’s voice broke them from their trance.

“Three minutes, you filthy fucking horndogs!”

Harley's lips were back against Pam’s in a second, and her fingers were palming at the pitcher’s ass. Pam bit down on Harley’s lip a bit harder than she’d intended, and Harley hissed.

“Sorry, did I-”

“ _Pam_ ,” Harley interrupted. “It’s fine. That was _hot_.”

Pam felt her breath catch in her throat when the blonde leaned forward to nibble on her earlobe, breath ghosting over the nape of Pam’s neck. She leaned back into the wall as her hips canted and she whimpered.

“Harley… more.”

Harley obliged, dragging her teeth down the column of Pam’s exposed throat, her lips latching onto soft skin and sucking gently but firmly. Pam could tell that a bright purple bruise was forming, but as her fingers carded through Harley’s hair, she just couldn't bring herself to give a flying fuck.

“Jesus,” Pam panted, Harley’s fingers digging into Pam’s upper thighs.

“Not quite,” Harley quipped, finding Pam’s lips again and pressing needy kisses to an open mouth.

“Two minutes!”

“Harley,” Pam mumbled against the blonde’s incessant lips. “Can you…”

Harley didn’t understand, and Pam wasn’t quite brave enough to use her words yet, so instead, she took one of Harley’s hands in her own and guided it slowly towards her chest, giving Harley every opportunity to pull away if she wanted to. Harley, to her credit, couldn’t have tugged her hand away if she tried — she’d dreamed of having Pamela Isley in her hands since the day they’d met.

“Harley?” Pam asked, gazing at the dumbstruck girl with her mouth hanging open. “Harley, you’re staring.”

“Pam,” Harley whispered. “Your _tits_.”

Pam laughed a little, her chest pressing further into Harley’s palm, and suddenly she wasn’t laughing anymore, and Harley was surging forward to claim her lips again, thumb tracing delicate patterns against her bra.

“One minute!”

Pam groaned into Harley’s mouth in frustration, tugging the blonde closer with the leg that was still draped over Harley’s hip. Harley let out a muffled grunt, but settled against the redhead as she offered one last swipe of her thumb against the padded bra and removed her hand entirely. Pam whined at the loss of contact.

“Baby,” Harley muttered, her hands coming up to cup Pam’s face in her hands. Pam melted at the name. “We can always pick up where we left off some other time.”

Pam tried not to let that comment go straight to the pit of her fucking stomach as Harley gingerly pulled away and the closet door was flung open, blinding light streaming into the tiny space. They were met with whoops and hollers, and Zoe had a smug, shit-eating grin on her face. Diana clocked the blossoming hickey on Pam’s neck and graciously covered her smirk by pretending to wet her lips with her tongue.

“Have fun?” Zoe snickered. “If you want we could give you seven more minutes?”

Harley was opening her mouth to accept the offer when Pam grabbed her wrist to drag her back down to the circle.

“No.”

But for the rest of the night, Pam couldn’t keep her eyes off of the blonde, and hours later, when everyone was heading home, Harley reached out and caught the redhead's arm, tugging her back into the house and slamming the door shut.

“I was just, um… gonna…” Pam stammered. Harley smiled sympathetically, pressing Pam against the front door and glancing down at full lips.

“How about a whole night in heaven with me, Isley?”

Pam would have laughed at the cheesiness of the line if Harley hadn’t silenced her with candy lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I did miss these little fuckers. But I need to move on from this AU! Recs, _please_!
> 
> xx Derby


End file.
